


Customs

by scar-and-boomerang (Y_Woo)



Series: Zukka Week 2020 [6]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, I really hope y'all enjoy this one, M/M, Marriage, Romance, Traditions, Wedding Fluff, Zukka Week, Zukka week 2020, and fire nation culture, fielder on the roof voice: traditioooooons, marriage fic, oh and the Fire Lord said GAY RIGHTS, pulled right out of me ass y'all, romance fluff, so much feel-good bullshit, this is probably my fav one tied with day two's Masquerade fic, this is purely self-indulgent y'all, watch me make stuff up about water tribe culture, wedding fic, zukka - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22401811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Y_Woo/pseuds/scar-and-boomerang
Summary: The Fire Lord is getting married - of course this will call for an extravagant, Nation-wide traditional wedding. But what if they wanted to be wedded in a small, intimate ceremony first, just as Zuko and Sokka, and honour the Water Tribe's heritage and customs as much as the Fire Nation's?Lots of new father-son duos, an incredulous polar goose-bunny being unwittingly involved (read: kidnapped), and Pakku being sassy with style, that's what.
Relationships: Hakoda & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Sokka (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Ursa & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Zukka Week 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607521
Comments: 43
Kudos: 1183





	Customs

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6  
> Prompt: Family  
> Own tags: Post-canon timeline, no AU, 'established relationship' story
> 
> Yes, I said wedding fic because the rest of you are too much of a COWARD to write it (jk I love all of you y'all are great). It honestly may be my favourite fic from the week (tied with the masquerade one maybe) and I genuinely hope you guys like it as much as I had a blast writing this. Because really, who doesn't enjoy Sokka and Zuko treating each other exactly right?
> 
> Some of the referenced wedding traditions are inspired by Canadian Inuits and native northern asian tribes, most (including the entire wedding ceremony and the vows) I just pulled straight (gay?) out of my ass. Also I guess I should also mention minor comics spoilers, if you haven't read The Search, just deal with the fact that Zuko's mum is back, with a new husband Ikem, and a new daughter Kiyi who is Zuko's baby half sister. Don't question it, it's canon.

“You ready to head out?” Hakoda’s face popped through the thick pelted curtains into the dimly lit igloo, one gloved hand lifting the fabric up and out of his face, while the other gripped a spear wedged into the ground outside.

“Uhm.” Came Zuko’s uncertain response. It was a rare sight to see the fire lord out of his country’s traditional red, but currently the young man was clad in a blue cotton parka lined with a white fur hood and collar, outfit complete with blue trousers and a pair of brown leather boots, barely recognisable in Water Tribe attire.

“I’ll just be outside, come out when you’re ready.” The chieftain told him, before promptly vanishing through the drapes as suddenly as he appeared.

Zuko sighed, pulling the thick gloves over his hands and was mildly shocked to find the insides were lined with soft, suede-like fur as well. He wriggled his fingers experimentally, opening and closing his palm, before gripping his own hunting spear clumsily over the thick material.

How anyone can accomplish any physical manoeuvres despite these layers down in the poles was the biggest mystery to him, the firebender contemplated as he got up and waddled outside into the blowing snowstorm.

“Good day for a hunt.” Hakoda remarked conversationally.

They had left the village a while ago and had been trekking through the tundra in silence for a solid stretch of time now. Outside the walls that shielded them from most of the wind, the storm escalated into entire sheets of icy mist obstructing their sight. There were nothing in front them that Zuko could see save for a two-dimensional blockade of white, and the loose, dry snow blown up from the ground and descending from the sky pattered against the fabric of his overcoat loudly.

He raised an eyebrow in skepticism, then, realising the expression was lost on the other man who could barely see the outline of his body amidst the whirlwind of ice, spoke aloud.

“Really?” He questioned in disbelief.

“Oh, yeah.” Came the shouted response over the howling weather, “however bad our sight is in this weather, the animals have it a lot worse. Makes snares and sneak attacks that much easier.”

Grunting out a noise of agreement that was immediately lost to the frozen void, Zuko marched on to match Hakoda’s pace in front of him. The Water Tribe hunter had warned him before they set off to always keep up, or yell for them to stop, because as soon as you lose sight of someone in this weather, it may be the last time you see them again. Or see anyone again, for that matter.

Every passing second out in the field made him wonder how Sokka and Katara survived past childhood and how the Southern Water Tribe weren’t extinct yet.

“This is as good a place as any.” Hakoda decided, stopping in front of him. He stomped on the loose snow to pack it and put down the tools and supplies he had been carrying.

They were huddled near a particularly large ice wall now, the side opposite the direction of the blowing wind. With most of the snow blocked, the veil of white was significantly less dense here, and they no longer had to shout over the atmosphere as Hakoda showed him how to knot the roll of rope they brought with them into a trap.

Zuko observed the way he laced the threads together swiftly, hooking a gloved finger to loop the knots through each other until the form of an evenly constructed netting took shape. Trying to replicate the movements himself, he found the task almost impossible with his thick gloves on his hands. His digits got stuck in the holes that were too small, and he couldn’t grip the ropes precisely enough to not drop it when he was passing one thread through the other.

Frustrated, Zuko made to pull off the glove, only to be stopped by Hakoda.

“Whoah, what do you think you’re doing?” He shouted, though not unkindly, at him.

“I, uh.” Zuko paused in his action, hesitant about what he was doing wrong, “I can’t work with these, they’re too thick.”

“Well, you can’t work with no fingers either, which is what you’ll end up with if you take those gloves off. Frostbites ain’t no joke down here, son.” Hakoda chuckled kindly, and informed him. The term of endearment he used to address Zuko slipped out easily and unnoticed, but Zuko caught it nonetheless, and it took every ounce of will in his body to not splutter, choke, or stare. “You just have to practice enough to be able to do it with the gloves on.”

Attention turned back to the task at hand, Zuko began weaving the snare once more, working much more slowly than his mentor and companion, but making solid progress despite the lack of efficiency. Neither of them spoke as the air whistled through cracks in the glacier around them, and periodically Zuko had to remind himself to tuck in the tip of his tongue, which he stuck out unconsciously in concentration, before it became frostbitten.

“I put you on edge.” After a while, Hakoda broke the silence first with the remark. It wasn’t an accusation, and Zuko could tell there were no anger or condemnation in his voice, but rather a hint of concern, and a large part of curiosity in his tone.

The young fire lord shrugged uneasily. “No. Yes, I mean—” he sighed, and grimaced in defeat, “It’s not personal or anything, just the concept of ‘father’ kind of triggers my fight or flight response, you know?”

Hakoda nodded understandingly. “I can imagine you haven’t had a great relationship with your own.” He offered.

“You can say _that_ again.” Zuko muttered under his breath, consciously stopping himself from trying to touch the scar on his face. The Water Tribe man chuckle in mild amusement.

They finished up their traps, and Hakoda talked him through setting it up completely with fish jerky and sea prunes as bait, and sticks for support. This part came a lot easier to the firebender than the actual making of the net, and he got his done without too much hassle and embarrassment.

Hakoda lead them to the observation spot, where they laid down on their stomach to wait for their prey. The snow underneath Zuko melted due to his body heat and he could feel a little wetness eating through the already impressively waterproof jacket. Soon enough, through the blanket of snow-wind, they saw a solitary polar goose-bunny waddle up to the trap.

“Now this part requires sophistication. You need to wait until the exact, right moment to drop the trap, otherwise it cou—” the experienced hunter never did get to finish his sentence, for as soon as the creature came back into view, Zuko gave his string a hard yank. In the distance, the goose-bunny let out a loud honk as the edge of the trap fell on its back, and it scurried forward into the net, letting it cover its body completely. “Or that works too, I suppose.”

They walked up to the goose-bunny, flapping its wings and yelling incredulously under the net, and peered down at the animal. Hakoda had told him before that this was the part where Zuko raised the spear and put a clean jab through its neck, like the polar bear dogs did with their teeth. But some strange compulsion made him crouch down instead, and lifted the net to pick up their first catch of the day.

He held the goose bunny up to face level with both his hands and stared at it. It stared back with large, beady eyes. And then it honked in his face.

“Rude.” He told it. The goose bunny had the audacity to honk again. Behind him, Hakoda snickered.

“You remind me of Sokka.” He told him. “Every time I take him to hunt, he’d end up naming all the animals. The baby leopard seals, the puffin cows, all of them. And then he’d try to bring them home and adopt them all. Eventually I had to stop taking him or we’d all starve to death.”

“That does sound like Sokka.” Zuko admitted, smiling at the animal he held in his hands softly. The goose-bunny wasn’t impressed, and fixed him with a look of thorough distaste.

“It’s no wonder he loves you so.”

This observation sent Zuko into a violent coughing fit. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know that Sokka loved him — they were preparing to get married after all — but hearing Sokka’s father say that about his son to him just put it on a whole new, very awkward, and very real level.

“Sorry.” He wheezed at Hakoda’s quizzical look, “this cold must be getting to me.”

“Well, if you’re not going to stew that goose-bunny, why don’t you go ahead and set it free so we can head on back to camp for lunch, and I’ll take you fishing this afternoon?”

“Really?” Zuko looked up, surprised.

“Look, kid. Obviously you know that it’s tradition in our tribe for a father to take potential son hunting and give him a chance to prove his worth and all that. But it’s not like your livelihood is going to depend on your hunting skills from now on. This is more a custom and formality than anything.” Hakoda told him offhandedly, setting about collapsing the traps and taking them apart.

Zuko put the animal he was still holding back down on the ground, it honked at him once more and flapped its wings in greeting, and waddled off into the blank tundra with its nose in the air.

They took up a much more leisured pace back to the tribe, now that the storm subsided into a gentle chilly breeze, and they were in no longer in any hurry to get anywhere.

“Besides,” Hakoda continued, “your marriage is going to be unconventional in more than a couple ways, as we’re all aware. The hunting ritual is traditionally to prove to a father that a man can take care of his daughter, but that wouldn’t be applicable in your case anyway. And I know you plan on having a Fire Nation wedding. So we’re just here for the sake of keeping Water Tribe elements as part of it as well as Sokka insisted, after all, cross-element weddings involving water became very rare after the Hundred Year War started.”

“Actually, I did.” Zuko mumbled in response, not sure why he bothered clarifying the information to his future father-in-law in the first place.

“I’m sorry?”

“I insisted on a Water Tribe wedding too.” He elaborated, shrugging and hoping to come across as nonchalant. “I thought it’d be nice to have a more private ceremony to ourselves first, and since the public had to be Fire Nation for the people, you know. I thought it’d be nice if Sokka got to honour his tradition as well.”

He didn’t mention, of course, that as soon as he proposed the idea Sokka’s face lit right up and he took it as invitation to torture Zuko with the activity of _going hunting with his father, ‘Water Tribe stylez’_ , whatever that meant.

“I see.” Hakoda said simply, in a way Zuko couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“It was worth it, though. I had a lot fun.” He offered instead, making the Water Tribe chief turn to him with an arched eyebrow. It struck him then that _fun_ probably wasn’t the objective here and he was being disrespectful to their culture. “I mean! I learnt a lot of things too, about, ahem, _providing for Sokka.”_ He corrected himself hastily, and finished, trailing off uncertainly.

To his credit, Hakoda managed to not burst into laughter and instead nodded his head approvingly in a way which didn’t embarrass Zuko further, because Agni knows he’s so capable of achieving that himself. Stopping in his tracks, he reached down to unsheathe a small knife from his belt, and held it out towards the younger man.

“This is a sabretooth whale dagger, the only one left in the Southern Water Tribe since our numbers diminished so much that whaling faded out of practice. This was given to me by my father-in-law when I married Sokka’s mother, as a symbol to protect and provide for her. You should have it.”

Zuko stared at the intricately crafted weapon, almost as long as his forearm, the entire dagger was carved from a single, intact piece of whale tooth, with the handle part wrapped in strips of leather dyed dark violet-blue and meticulously polished.

“I— I couldn’t possibly—” he stammered, shocked beyond composition, “I mean, you should keep it for Katara.”

Hakoda laughed amiably. “If you think the young, vegetarian Avatar is capable of using this hunting dagger in any shape or form, you clearly have not paid enough attention from your time saving the world alongside him.” He jested in a way that indicated Sokka had failed to informed him how little time Zuko had actually spent _alongside_ them, and how the majority of the time had actually gone into _chasing them down across the world with the intent of capture and maybe kill_.

“Not that I believe you would use it as anything other than a keepsake,” he continued, handing the knife closer to Zuko, who took it from him eventually. The latter turned it over in his palm, feeling its weight — heavier than he’d anticipated — and balance as one would do a sword, “you kids nowadays with your fancy steel blades, but no, I want you to have it. When you find yourselves young firebender heirs to raise and inherit the throne whichever way you two see fit, I want them to have something Water to keep with them.”

Zuko nodded firmly, gripping the leather handle tight, he held his head high and looked at Hakoda sincerely in the eyes. “I shall keep it with honour, Sir.” He promised.

Standing there against the snowy plains stretching in every direction, covered hood to boots with fur-lined, thick cotton attire, back straight, holding a whale tooth dagger, and head held high with that burn scar on his face, the Water Tribe chief thought privately that the young man standing in front of him could definitely pass as a proud Water Tribesman already.

* * *

Sokka found the old man sitting alone in one of the confusingly many rooms in the Fire Nation palace, sipping a cup of tea contentedly.

He wasn’t looking for him in particular. He wasn’t, in fact, looking for anyone or anything in particular. But Zuko had been gone for a good part of the week now and he was bored out of his mind. So he when he had trained the heck out of the training room, fed all of the ducks in the turtleduck pond (he was going to make them prefer _him_ over Zuko one day, Tui and La help him), and been kicked out of the kitchen for trying all the unfinished dishes and then gagging and complaining about spending the rest of his life stuck with Fire Nation cuisine, Sokka had resorted to wandering the halls aimlessly and hoping one of these purposeless rooms would open up a portal and transport him to his fiancé in the South Pole.

Plus then he would finally get some actual sea prunes.

He was about to slip out of sight, leave Iroh to enjoy his beverage in peace, and resume his lost cause of trying to make sense of the floor plan of the palace, a place notorious for its complete disobedience of physical directions, when the latter spoke up.

“Ah, my dear Sokka, come sit with me.” The old firebender invited warmly.

“Are you sure? I don’t wish to intrude on your alone time.”

“Oh, not at all! My tea set could always spare a cup.” Iroh said in his usual fashion that had the ability to make people suspect his words ran far deeper than what they meant in the literal sense.

Sokka walked over and took a seat on the square mat laid out on the floor, on opposite sides of the table as Iroh, and took the full cup he handed him for a sip.

He never did enjoy tea that much. He could tolerate it, but it had always been more of a social drink than one he’d consume for the sake of its taste. This particular cup, however, had a peculiar flavour that lingered on his tongue and hooked him with pleasant surprise, its light scent ethereal and vaguely sweet, but not in an artificially sugared way, and rather reminds one of the dew one might find between petals of a flower in a meadow on an autumn morning.

He smacked his lips gingerly, trying to make sense of the taste.

“It’s a special blend I devised myself,” Iroh explained before Sokka could even get a chance to ask, “volcanic chrysanthemum and Longjing — Dragon Well — leaves. The sweetness of the flower offsets the bitter of the green leaves, while the strength of the leaves backs the elusive aroma of the flower, and coaxes it out into the water.”

“Why do I feel like you’re about to turn it into another metaphor about life?” Sokka joked, taking another sip of the tea.

Iroh burst out laughing in the mirthful, throaty way he always did. “No. Even the most colourful lives of humans, you will find, are no match for the blandest of tea. There is no comparison on earth for the spirituality of tea.”

“It does taste really good.” Sokka offered, somewhat lamely.

They sat together and drank silently, Sokka occasionally glancing over to peek at Iroh’s posture of holding the tea cup and putting it up to his lips, trying to mimic the actions instead of sticking to his own unrefined, casual movements. When they both finished their cups, Iroh offered him another refill, which he accepted, and changed the topic of the conversation.

“So I see my young nephew is still on his bemusing mission to try and get himself mauled to death by a polar bear dog?” He inquired.

“Yeah, which I totally did not put him up to, by the way. I mean, I may have informed him that was the custom, but I really did expect him to back down.” _So that I could hold it over his head for the rest of his life and be entertained whenever I’m bored in the marriage,_ The Water Tribe boy didn’t add out loud.

“Oh yes, I know. I suppose he wants to prove to you that he’s as willing to take on your values and ancestry as much as you his.”

“You don’t approve.” Sokka observed experimentally. Zuko had warned him that it was futile to try and figure put the implications of his uncle, and he was starting to see why. While the wording of the comment made it seem so, there was nothing in Iroh’s tone or expression that suggests he thought positively or negatively about his nephew’s actions.

“I believe that the best thing you can give a person in love and marriage is yourself as you are. We spend so much time trying to be accepted into the other’s family, we forget to build our own sometimes. After all, what obstacles one person couldn’t face alone, two identical copies of themselves would be unlikely to solve, either.”

Sokka nodded thoughtfully. He would never admit it to anyone, let alone Zuko, lest he stress the poor Fire Lord out even more, but he had secretly been anxious about the wedding for this very reason. Of course, he had spent most of the past four years with Zuko already, and he could always go home whenever he wanted, both Zuko and his dad had made that clear to him, but _marriage_ had a different connotation. From then on, his _home_ would be here. In the Fire Nation.

He suspected that Zuko knew that, to some extent. He didn’t tell him, but after four years of relationship it was to be expected that they knew each other in a way that went beyond words. It was a large part of the motivation behind his offering of a Water Tribe wedding first, Sokka reasoned, (not to mention the insane activity of hunting with his dad in the tundra fields), and it had helped ease his mind a little about holding on to his cultural heritage, but it was not not as completely effective in offering comfort in a way Iroh’s speech was just now.

He supposed some wisdom just had to come with old age.

“You know,” Sokka told the old firebender sitting across him, “I used to always think Zuko’s kindness and sensibility came from his mum. But more and more I see that it came from being practically raised by you, as well. I see a lot of you in him.”

Iroh smiled kindly. “Given that you are about to marry the young man in question,” he responded, “I shall take that as a compliment.”

Sokka nodded, and helped himself to another cup of tea, trying to manoeuvre the pot skilfully enough to not spill any. As mild as the old man seemed now, he wouldn’t bet his life on not being burnt to a crisp if he wasted perfectly good tea.

“I don’t know if you knew, but I lost my son Lu Ten a long time ago, to the siege of Ba Sing Se.” Iroh told him, voice serene and peaceful, almost as if in a meditative state. Sokka wasn’t sure where this was going or if he should offer his condolences, so he listened on for the point of this speech. “And for a long time, I mourned him. My life’s purpose tilted on its axis. Torn between the duties of a Crown Prince and a father, it seemed I lost both in an instant.

“Until the day of Zuko’s banishment, I found myself gifted back both of these duties. In being a father to a Prince shouldering a great destiny, far greater than any of his forefathers could know. Had I not suffered great loss, I would not have had such honour of helping to restore the peace to entire nations, nor see my other son find such happiness in the arms of another young man.

“They say the man who lost his horse will find soon that it is a great blessing in disguise. Stop assigning positives and negatives to fate, and you shall find that you will live all the happier.”

Sokka nodded solemnly. He was sure that he had only barely scratched the surface of understanding the wisdom imparted upon him just now, and that in years to come he would suddenly find himself in a time of crisis and receive a divine flashback to this moment in time, and be gifted the key to the solution buried in the lecture he’d received from Iroh that day. But for now, he merely sipped on his tea thoughtfully, and tried his hardest to chew on the words, so that he wouldn’t die in said future crisis.

“I have to attend to some official business, don’t worry about tidying up the set when you’ve finished,” Iroh said, hoisting himself up. In Zuko’s absence, his uncle had agreed to oversee state business for him, taking a break from running the tea shop. “I wish you a nice and pleasant afternoon, my nephew.”

It was a good ten minutes after he was gone that the term with which he’d addressed Sokka clicked in his mind, and he promptly choked on his tea.

* * *

“I’m starting to think you were born in the wrong nation.” A soft voice spoke out from behind him as a gentle hand was laid on his shoulder. “You look so handsome in blue.”

“Hey, mum.” Zuko said softly at his mother’s reflected image in the mirror in front of him, and placed his own hand to cover hers.

He was wearing a navy, knee-length tunic made of silk — the original gown had been of thick cotton, but there was no way anyone could not die of heatstroke in that thing in the middle of Caldera City so close to the summer solstice — the top half of which was covered with a shoulder cape similar in style to the one from Sokka’s battle gear during Sozin’s Comet, again made of a thinner material, lined with white fur hems, and had the hunting dagger Hakoda gifted him clipped to his belt.

It was indeed a different look on him, in Water Tribe attire, and Zuko couldn’t help but dwell on his mother’s offhand comment, and wonder what it would be like, being born into Water instead of Fire, and how his life — and the lives of everyone in the world — would have played out.

Uncle would probably have a proverb or two for him for getting lost in the _what-ifs_ like that.

Behind him, his mother planted a soft kiss on the back of his head, before holding out a small clay cup towards him with her spare hand that was not touching Zuko, who looked down into the container tentatively.

“What’s this?” He asked.

“Well, apparently there’s a wedding custom in the Southern Water Tribe, where each of the betrothed chip off a small part of the igloo they grew up in, and melt it into a cup which they would then mix and drink together at the ceremony, for the homes they would carry in the both of them now.”

“That doesn’t sound entirely sanitary.” Zuko remarked with a wrinkled nose, causing Ursa to chuckle softly like how he remembered she did when he was small.

“The poles are cleaner than us here, I suppose. You would know, you’ve actually been. Anyway, since you didn’t grow up in an igloo, I took the liberty to bring you an alternative.” She told him, tapping the rim of the cup that was now set on the vanity table in front of him. “Water from one of the springs in the Forgetful Valley, back near Hira’a.”

“You went back there? Mum!” Zuko exclaimed, half surprised and half concerned, “isn’t that dangerous?”

“I have the Mother of Faces’s favour” Ursa reassured him, “there is nothing to be concerned about. I just want you to have something to hang onto, an ancestry you can take with you, that you can be proud of.”

“You are all the ancestry I am and want to be proud of.” He told her. “But thank you.”

At that moment the door was pushed open and his uncle entered through. He too was sporting similar blue formal costume of Water Tribe cut, something he had been particularly excited about in the preparation leading up to the ceremony, gushing about the chance to immerse himself in another culture. The old man bustled up to mother and son, grinning goofily.

“Oh, how vibrant you look, dear nephew!” He exclaimed, making Zuko blush, “and right on time too, they’re ready to have you head out.”

Zuko nodded, and rose to stand shakily, pushing down the nerves growing in his stomach. He reminded himself that he had nothing to be anxious about. He was marrying the love of his life today, and nothing could possibly take that away from him anymore.

“You fought so hard for this, my darling.” His mother told him gently, “and I am so proud.”

Zuko didn’t have to ask if she meant taking down Ozai and the Fire Nation rule, or the years of work to unravel the laws passed by Sozin himself to make the very existence homosexuality illegal, let alone getting married with someone of the same sex ( _“seriously, dude definitely had repressed feelings for Avatar Roku”_ was what Sokka had said on the subject before he told him to shut up and get lost). It had been part of the reason why they were getting married at only twenty (besides, you know, _love_ ), it was easier to lead by example and lend some courage and stability and _hope_ to the people of a nation that desperately needed it.

He knew she meant all of that, and he couldn’t be more grateful to have his mother back with him on this day and all the days before and after that, right by his side.

“Thanks, mum. And you don’t look so bad in blue yourself.” He said lightly as he walked out the door, smiling at the soft laugh she let out behind him, and feeling brave enough for the first time in a long, long while.

* * *

Sokka was already standing at the opposite side of the platform they’d set up in the palace courtyard when Zuko walked into his sight, and his heart leapt upon seeing him, dressed in matching outfits with his. It was the first time he had seen the firebender in a colour that wasn’t red, (other than, of course, times when he saw him in _nothing, wink wink_ ), and he couldn’t help but think about how _beautiful_ he looked standing there with the blue silk draping off his shoulders, holding his arms, which were snugly fitted in elbow-length ceremonial hunting gloves.

Zuko looked up then, and met his eyes across the stage, and Sokka’s chest almost burst at the love he could see radiating from his golden eyes.

Master Pakku walked up onto the platform between them, and called them both up to the centre, stood facing each other, eye-to-eye.

Around them stood family and friends, everyone who’d been on this wild ride with them. Katara, Toph, Suki, Ty Lee, and little Kiyi in sky blue dresses, Aang in formal Water Tribe clothes similar to theirs save for the shoulder cape and gloves, the blue in his garment matching his airbender tattoos in an unintentionally harmonic effect. Hakoda, Gran Gran, Iroh, Ursa, and Ikem all wore the traditional garments sported by those with status of elders, more mature and sombre in contrast to the teens.

But in that moment, Sokka and Zuko only had eyes for each other.

A bowl was held in front of them by Master Pakku, who was to conduct the wedding, into which they both poured their cup of water. It took them more coordination than expected to keep the bowl lifted at chest-level between them when Pakku withdrew his hands and declared that they could now speak their vows.

Sokka and Zuko looked into each other’s eyes as they spoke each word, slowly but firmly, dragging each syllable out solemnly to match the other’s pace, their voice intertwined in unison and rung out in the pavilion as one.

_“Into the dark night of winter I will follow you, out of the break of dawn in spring I will follow you. When the spirits bless my soul, may they bless yours as well. For from this day forth, I devote my mind, body, and heart, to your service and your care, until the day they dissolve to be one with the elements around us once more.”_

A small plate was picked up by Master Pakku, who dipped his finger into the purple content inside and held it up to Sokka’s forehead.

“Do you, Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, son of Hakoda and the late Kya, understand that with this mark you will be wedded to your husband, and accept all the responsibilities and privileges this union will entail?”

“I do.” Sokka confirmed, more steadily than he thought he could have managed in his state of nervousness and excitement. Pakku reached up, and drew a horizontal line, curled down on the left and up on the right, sandwiched by a dots on either side, in the space between his brows. The mark of the union.

“And do you, Zuko of the Fire Nation, son of Ursa and nephew of Iroh, understand that with this mark you will be wedded to your husband, and accept all the responsibilities and privileges this union will entail?”

“I do.” Zuko promised, sight not wavering from Sokka standing in front of him as the same mark was drawn upon him.

“You may now drink from the bowl. May the spirits bless your matrimony, on this day, and all the days to come.” The authoritative voice of Master Pakku as the officiant announced over them as the two newlyweds turned to face the crowd shoulder to shoulder, put their heads together up to the bowl, and each took a small sip from the clear water in it at the same time.

* * *

“How are you doing, _husband_?” Zuko walked up behind his new spouse, a warm smile spread across his face, and roped his arms around Sokka’s waist to give him a hug.

“Not too bad at all, what about you, _husband_?” Sokka responded easily, with the same cheeky tone as Zuko did a moment ago, “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of saying that.”

“Ah, young love.” Pakku spoke out from behind them, walking up to the couple, accompanied by Sokka’s family, and Iroh, “congratulations to you two young men, you did well.”

Both of them glanced at each other and mumbled their thanks.

Pakku turned to address Zuko specifically, patting him across the back, “you’ve grown since the last time I saw you. It was just after your banishment, your ship docked in the little Earth Kingdom port closest to the Northern Water Tribe, and I came down so you uncle could update me on the situation. You yelled at us both to get lost, and then ran off somewhere trying to gather intel on the Avatar.” He said the last word with a comical widening of his eyes, putting on a teasing air of mysterious dramatics.

Behind him, Iroh and Hakoda laughed as Zuko felt himself flush hot at the reminder of his not-so-glorious years. “You’ve come very far since then, your uncle is right to be proud of you.”

“Thank you, Master Pakku.” Zuko said, still blushing, but remembering to bow subtly at the old man.

“Please, you can call me grandfather now.”

“Does that mean I could—” Sokka butted in eagerly next to them, only for the request to be cut off swiftly.

“No. It’ll still be Master to you.” Pakku informed him sternly to the laughter of the rest of the guests.

“We should head off,” Zuko announced politely, reaching out to tug Sokka’s hand closer to him and pointedly ignoring Toph and Suki’s wagging eyebrows from the table across, “and leave you grownups at liberty to exchange all the embarrassing childhood stories about us.”

“Ah yes, some wedding night traditions never change, no matter the culture. Go on then.” Hakoda agreed, winking obscenely and slapping Sokka across the back, “go do what you must do.”

“Dad!” Sokka yelled over his shoulders while being dragged off by his husband.

The rest of the young teens decided to call it a night as well, and each retired to their own chambers for the evening, leaving the adults watching them leave, and lamenting longingly about the potentials and possibilities that awaited them in youth.

Iroh stood and excused himself, before going indoors and coming out moments later, carrying a small wooden box, which he handed over to Hakoda.  
  
“It is Fire Nation tradition for the families to meet and extend gifts of symbolisms. I know the big wedding isn’t due for another month, but it is my understanding you will not be back for it. I thought this would be as good a time as any to give your family something from Ursa and I.”

Hakoda opened the box, and gasped as he took out the delicate paper fan embossed with golden letters of Fire Nation script and meticulously painted scenery of volcanoes and coastlines of their country.

“It is something of a family heirloom, one of the few that survived my own father Azulon’s industrialisation. Though our losses couldn’t being to be compared with that of your home, the beauty of the Fire Nation took a hit from its own children during the war as well. It is our hope by entrusting you with this, that our children could begin to undo the hurt from the war finally.”

“Spirits, thank you.” Hakoda said seriously, bowing his head at Iroh. “I— we didn’t prepare anything at all, but perhaps once we get back to the Tribe we could see if—”

“There is no need for that, Chief Hakoda.” The old firebender cut him off with a mild wave of his hands, “Sokka has brought such life and joy to Zuko and supported him to be the young Fire Lord that he is today. I often think that, even though my nephew is the firebender, it is your son who helped him find his sun. His happiness is the greatest gift we could receive. You have raised a remarkable young man.”

“You didn’t do so bad yourself.” Hakoda offered back, to the murmuring assent around the table of Water Tribe and Fire Nation, gathered peacefully and joined by the love between two brave young warriors.


End file.
